


An Absence of Expectations

by StefoftheHill



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Christmas, Fluffy Adventure, M/M, Magnatisim doesn't work that way, Modern AU, Modern Royalty, still have powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 12:25:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8667649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StefoftheHill/pseuds/StefoftheHill
Summary: Erik and Charles as familiar strangers. Both find comfort in the other's presence until their rendez-vous is disrupted. Things are set into motion. 

A modern royal AU in which Erik is actually kind of proud of how he does his job.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lamia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamia/gifts).



> At one point in this story Charles Xavior is contrite. That's how you can tell this is fan fic and not canon ;-)
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Lamia

On the first day the wind cut through what he had thought was an adequate wool coat while Erik was hustled by security from the car up the wide front steps of the hotel. The protocol that had been drilled into him even before the exile ended was that he was to ignore the weather or else someone might get a bad picture, which seemed even more foolish considering the paparazzi weren’t crazy enough to stand out in what was becoming a serious cold snap--they had retreated to somewhere more hospitable to parasites. Instead of covering his face and sprinting inside to avoid the harshest December that New York had seen in years, Erik stiffened his spine and concentrated on keeping a neutral face while his coat whipped in the wind.

The inside was much better, though almost anywhere would be better than outside, and the small delegation that waited just to the side of the doors were inoffensive, if a little bland. The hotel manager and head of the concierge were honoured to host him, a representative of the summit was ready for any services he might request, and some local politician, Erik learned and then immediately forgot his position, was sure that the meeting would *go off without a hitch and that this day would go down in history. The appropriate amount of political flattery was exchanged before he could ask if his staff had already arrived, a question that he already knew the answer to but which served as a convenient escape to end the conversation.

“Of course your Majesty, they’re waiting for you in one of the meeting rooms,” the politician of little importance offered, while over his shoulder one of the silent unintroduced assistants winced at the improper title. 

“Would your Highness like to speak to them now or should we have them sent to your suite?” the concierge offered, trying to show that the hotel at least knew what to call him. Another quick round of bowing and a hearty handshake from the politician who couldn’t read that the temperature in the room had dropped to match outside, and one of the aides was ushering Erik and his security towards a first floor room marked ‘Library’. 

The room was a fair size, especially considering that it was in a hotel, but still inviting. It was certainty well stocked, with shelves from floor to ceiling on three of the walls and windows and a fireplace on the last, but then again it wouldn’t be the first hotel he’d been in where reading material was chosen for the quality of its binding rather than its content. More importantly it held the promised staff and entourage that Erik hadn’t seen since a few days before leaving Genosia. “Whose brilliant idea was the decorating?”

Angel didn’t bother to look up from her tablet to answer. “While I have no doubt that they consulted with the summit co-ordinators, all decorating was up to the hotel. Before you say anything, I’ve been assured that it’s all non-denominational and there’s nothing in the summit’s formal program that has anything to do with any holiday. It’s seasonally appropriate, so try not to get caught by the paps with that look on your face.”

Erik considered poking one of the delicately carved nutcrackers hanging from the long fir swags around the room, and wished he was still young enough to roll his eyes. His mother had complained while he was growing up that she wouldn’t know his eye colour he rolled his eyes to often. “If I’m going to spend the rest of the week in a hotel that looks like Christmas barfed all over it I reserve the right to complain as much as I want to. Besides, you don’t even know what look I have.”

“Erik anyone who knows you knows what look you have. It’s like you’re allergic to things that make people happy.” 

“There are a lot of things that make people happy that don’t involve flagrant consumerism and charities that have a history of discriminating against Mutants. Our brothers..”

Angel cut him off with a wave of her tablet. “No. I don’t want to hear it. This isn’t time for a speech and we’ve got too much to do today for me to indulge your ongoing desire to turn everything into a soapbox. If we go over the schedule we can all get some food before the real work begins.” She pulled a folder from the neatly stacked papers on the table and shook it at him. “Today is relatively simple. We’ve got the official summit photocall with the rest of the leaders, both a group shot and about a dozen individual handshake shots. Because Genosha is being added to the partnership you’ll have to do basically all of the countries so they’ll have something to send home for their press. According to the schedule that will take us until late afternoon, but they’re always longer than the organizers budget, so assume we’ll have time for a quick change before the opening dinner. You’ll schmooze with the bigwigs and then you’re done for the night.”

There was nothing that Erik liked less than ‘schmoozing’ but that wasn’t Angel’s fault so his smothered his anger and was left with a deep weariness instead.

“Day two will be meetings, meetings, and more meetings, but there’s no official dinner and we’ve managed to keep your evening clear, so remember that when you’re assigning bonus’ this year. The next day you’ve got a breakfast with the press and, surprise surprise, meetings, before you have an offsite charity event. Saturday you’ve got a free morning, an official lunch, the signing of the charter that adds Genosha to the GEMA partnership, two short meetings, and then the closing dinner, which has been fashioned like a proper old school ball.” Angel shook her tablet at his face again. “Do not give me that look! I have a floofy pretty dress and I’m going to meet a prince that isn’t as foul tempered as you, and we’re going to dance until midnight.

“I have bad news for you,” Erik said, trying to hide the smirk that Angel so often caused*. “They’re all as foul tempered as me. Dealing with uppity staff makes us cynical bastards.”

*Angel stood from where she had been sitting at the large table and slipped her tablet under her arm to look him in the eye. “Before you get caught by any of the press they have started calling it the Christmas Summit. Do not scowl when they ask you about it, Frost will skin me alive if you end up on the front of any newspaper slagging off the biggest cultural holiday of the Western world.” 

She canted her head to one side and for a moment she looked soft in a way that she usually hid. “I know you and your mother have worked very hard to bring Genosia back to the political world since the revolt that ousted the General. This is a big step for our little kingdom, but you’ll have time to rest once it’s over. Just get through the next few days and you’re well on the way to undoing the damage that the dictatorship inflicted on us.”

Erik nodded. It wasn’t an end, the pressure would never really end, but becoming a member of GEMA would open trade and ease the shortfalls of resources that the island needed to recuperate from decades of isolationism. It was a fresh start, and would give his country breathing room.

It would give him breathing room.

Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel didn’t make the summit any easier, but at least it would give him something to look forward to. “Alright then. Four days of work and then it’s sunshine and puppies from there. What do we need to do right now?”

Angel’s smile was satisfied in a way that Erik didn’t like.

“You and I are going to go over names and biographies, while Dianne looks after your make-up.”

ooOOoo

Of course there would be make-up, he should have know that as soon as Angel mentioned the photos, but if he’d thought ahead maybe he could have gotten out of it. Pretended to be sick for the afternoon, or have one of the bodyguards ‘accidently’ drop the case somewhere. Only many years of experience and the memory of a dozen past aids berating him stopped him from reaching up and scratching along his jaw.

That and if he damaged the make-up they would undoubtedly pause in order for Dianne to fix it, and this whole circus was dragging along enough without Erik adding to it.

The media swarmed in their little tasks to convert the hotel’s largest meeting room into an appropriate set, getting video cameras and tripods into the most advantageous angles to capture the right light, while in the middle the official photographer was acting as conductor to get a series of ornate chairs into some order. Erik couldn’t help but feel like this should already have been done before they had begun to escort world leaders into a curtained holding pen just off to one side of the ballroom. There was a certain lack of dignity, and the Samoan Prime Minister had needed to sit as soon as he’d arrived, a clear victim of jet lag. 

He could empathize. The flight from Genosha to New York hadn’t been an easy one, and the flurry of last minute planning when his mother’s flu had necessitated sending the crown prince rather than the Queen had been a hurricane. Most of the leaders would have arrived a few days early to acclimate themselves, and right now Erik would have given his crown for the same chance. As it was he’d been staring at a potted fern in the newly constructed backdrop for the last five minutes.

Staring and wishing he could itch.

It would just feel soooo good to scratch, just for a moment.

“I try thinking of it as delayed gratification. Hold off itching it until you’re alone and then getting a good scratch out of the way when none of the assistants or stylists are around to see their hard work undone,” said a voice from his elbow.

Erik turned to look but didn’t start, possibly because he was too tired to be surprised. The voice belonged to a beautifully intense set of eyes and a delicious mouth, which after a beat Erik connected to Charles Xavier. Somehow the English prince had snuck up on him, something that no one had done in a long time, and had known how desperately he wanted to scratch his jaw.

“I would say it was written all over your face, but really you were mentally projecting. I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m a telepath, and itches and sneezes are something that people around the world project. That and yawns, which are as contagious as they are rumoured to be. Telepaths can sense them starting on one side of the room and then rippling across a crowd.” Charles gave a small wince at an old memory. “It’s a good meter to tell when the speech you’re giving has fallen flat.”

Now that he was focusing on the man in front of him he could feel the bits of metal that usually stopped people from sneaking up on him. The watch and cufflinks, even the little eyelets on his shoes. Erik realized that the beat of silence had lasted a moment too long, the clear result of his exhaustion, and hurried to fill his side of the conversation. 

“Yes, yes I did know that you were a telepath. When I was growing up, before Mother and I returned to Genosia, you were the only mutant who was going to lead a country. It was very inspiring in our little circle.” Halfway through his sentence Erik realized that he was sharing more than might be considered proper, but he pushed down the embarrassment and buried it with an adolescent fantasy that wasn’t appropriate for public viewing. Hopefully Charles wouldn’t notice.

At that moment one of the milling crowd tripped over an exposed cord and careened into the edge of a ladder. The lighting assistant, who was fiddling with something at the top--Erik couldn’t see what--tensed and grabbed at the *ladder, but there was nothing that she could do, and a handful of camera operators shouted and dived out of the path where it was clearly going to crash.

Erik flung his arm out and threw his senses to the, thankfully not aluminum, ladder. The feeling of his power concentrated in his fist, which he jerked backwards to stabilize the falling assistant. To stop her from over correcting and spilling off the other side he grabbed the metal on her belt and stuck it fast to the shuddering ladder. For just an instant the technician shuddered in the air, suspended by the wrenches on her hip, before she reacted and clutched at the top step.

It had fascinated the doctors and scientists when he had first manifested that his power, which every test said resided in his brain, had such a sensory effect on his body. He felt the fields in his toes and jaw and eyelids.

A short moment passed, then there was a collective intake of air as everyone in the room recognised that the woman was no longer in danger and the stillness that had hit passed. The lighting assistant scrambled down the ladder to where the man who had tripped in the first place apologised heartily and a swell of murmuring rose as everyone began to look for who had stopped someone from getting hurt.. 

Standing behind the curtain it was unlikely that anyone could see him, but Erik relaxed his fist and let it drop to the side anyway. Behind the curtain was another story and the relaxing Samoan Prime Minister gave a few claps with his meaty hands.

“Oh bravo,” said Charles. “Nicely done. It’s well known that you’re a mutant as well, but the speed that you made that catch at was very impressive. Is it Metallokinesis?”

“No actually, I manipulate magnetic fields.”

“Well that is a fascinating mutation. And useful too it seems. How old were you when you manifested?” Charles asked.

Erik started to answer when a second wave of world leaders were brought to the holding pen and the summit organizer who had greeted him when he arrived at the hotel began to read from a clip board.

“I suppose duty calls. I’m sure we’ll be able to speak later,” Charles said, before he was directed out to the set and a sea of flashbulbs began to pop.

Someday Erik hoped to have that kind of ease in front of the press. Today was not that day, so when his name was called he straightened his jacket and strode out onto the battlefield. He was expecting the flashes, and an old trick kept his eyes open, but keeping a small smile was more difficult than he’d expected. By the time that he’d made his way to the assigned spot in the third row Erik was sure that everyone could see how brittle he looked.

He clasped his hands behind his back and focused on the postural form that his etiquette instructors had stressed. 

Shoulders back.

Spine straight.

Chin down.

“Oh Erik, I promise you that they are not going to eat you alive. For one thing the one doing the eating wouldn’t be able to take pictures of the event, and none of them would sacrifice that.”

He hadn’t noticed that he’d been placed behind and to the left of Prince Charles, but now that he was he felt a little bit of the tension leave his body.

“I’m sorry, was I projecting again?”

“No, you don’t need to be a telepath to recognize that you’re uncomfortable. Von Doom could tell that you were nervous, and he’s not even invited this year.”

More of the agitation left, and he felt like he could risk a small smile.

“That’s it Erik, now you just need to hold that smile for the next hour and a half.”

The Crown Prince of Genosha gave a playful groan. “Do you think abdication would get me out of this?”

ooOOoo

Charles had been optimistic when he had projected an hour and a half finish time. By the time that the group shots and a dozen individual handshakes had been recorded it was closer to two and a quarter hours. Erik slumped in a chair in the main room of his suite, grateful for even a few minutes off his feet.

“Next time we find me a body double.”

Angel flitted around the room unpacking bags and arranging his outfit for the dinner.

“Angela Merkel did the whole thing in heels, so you don’t get to complain. Now suit up, we’ve got almost no time before we’re expected downstairs.”

“I bet if I sewed metal into my clothes I’d be able to hover. That might spare my feet. Do you think they’d mind if I hovered down to dinner?”

“Plenty of people spend the day on their feet Erik, and most of them don’t complain about it afterwards. Now dress yourself or I’ll dress you!”

Erik sighed, then pushed himself to his feet. “They may have to stand, but they don’t need to do it in brand new dress shoes. Next time I need to break them in before agreeing to any conferences, summits, forums, symposiums, or seminars. Give me five minutes of privacy and I’ll be presentable.”

Angel smiled and spun around to face the wall.

“Come on Daddy-o, we’ve got things to go over before dinner. Like how I assume that you stopped that ladder from hitting the floor.”

Erik shrugged out of the less formal jacket and started to unbutton his dress shirt.

“Yes, that was me. I saw it start to go and I just reacted.” He dropped his tie on the bed and then looked up startled. “Wait, you don’t think there will be blowback from that? I know that parts of the country have serious anti-mutant sentiment, but I didn’t think that it would be a problem here. Plus most of the European countries are light years ahead when it comes to mutant rights laws.”

“Oh no, not a problem. Everybody loves that someone saved that technician. And I hate to express sexist sentiments, but the fact that she was a pretty girl doesn’t hurt. The cameras were running, so we have some good video of the event, and she gave a few interviews after. I knew I needed to check with you first, but now that I know for sure I’ll have an anonymous source confirm in the next few days that you were responsible. Somebody will probably connect your power to the event anyway, so if any of the press ask just deflect to the plight of mutants worldwide. It’ll make you look humble and it’s a topic you can talk on without notes.”

“Well that should be easy enough. Is there anything else that my positively machiavellian assistant would like me to tell the press?” Erik asked, exchanging his pants for the more formal pair that Angel had laid out.

“Well nothing for the press, but something for my own edification. You seemed to be speaking more with Prince Charles than you usually speak with strangers. Had you two already met before?”

“No, this was the first time. I suppose we just have a similar background.”

“What, he grew up living with his mother in exile, constantly moving to avoid squads of assassins sent by the crazed general who had deposed the royal family? They left that out of the biography!”

“Very funny Angel, you missed your calling to be a stand-up. No I mean that we were both raised to lead our people. They’re aren’t that many monarchies left, and even if my chance to lead Genosia was a long shot there were still certain expectations that were common to our positions.”

“Plus he’s cute.”

“And there’s that too, but don’t make me think about that or I might make him uncomfortable when my thoughts stray. Best to just appreciate his friendship.”

“Is it a friendship?”

Erik took a moment to fix his bowtie and think about his answer.

“Yes, I think he’s a friend. A few hours of surprisingly snide commentary about the media isn’t necessarily BFFs, but there’s still something there, a kind of familiarity. Maybe he’s just friends with everyone, he seems like he could be the type.”

“Well I for one am happy with this development,” Angel declared, spinning around from where she was facing the wall. “You need more friends.”

“What I need is an assistant who waits until I tell her I’m finished changing before she invades my privacy.”

“Well you’re not going to get that, so you might as well take the new friend.”

ooOOoo

The hotel’s largest room had been converted back from the photo set into an elegant dining room. There were still photographers around, but now they were fewer and working directly for the summit, rather than for the media outlets covering the conference. Their priority was to be as unobtrusive as possible, while documenting the important interactions before world leaders. After all you never knew when some finance minister would insult some Duke and a war would break out.

Not that that was likely. Everyone was on their best behaviour, and there wasn’t enough alcohol to knock someone off their manners.

To his disappointment Erik found that his assigned seating was nowhere near Charles’. His mother’s voice ringing in his ears stopped the prince from asking to swap chairs with France. Instead he made polite conversation with the representative from Symkaria, King Stefan, who he had no doubt been seated next to because they were both freshmen to GEMA.

“Do you think they meant to flambé it?” Erik asked, poking at his desert. It was some sort of fruit in a meringue, but it had been covered with so much sauce it was impossible to identify the fruit through the taste of alcohol.

“I’m old enough and I’ve been to enough of these gatherings to tell you that this is a good sign,” King Stefan said in his distinguished accent. “There’s always something that goes wrong, and if they get it out of the way on the first day it makes the rest of the week easier. The kitchen will be petrified that it will happen again and will go to great lengths to make sure that only perfection leaves their doors.”

“Well that is a comfort, but what am I supposed to do with this now?”

“Stir it around with your spoon and then leave it. Somethings aren’t worth trying.”

Erik did as instructed, then pushed it just far enough away that he wouldn’t be tempted to try it again.

“Since you’re speaking as the voice of experience I’ll quiz you some more. Symkaria has been quite happy staying out of most international alliances. Why after so many years have you asked to join the partnership?” Erik knew the answer, almost anyone with an interest in politics could speculate, but he wanted to know what the King would say.

“Ha, I like how straightforward you are,” Stefan said, then took a moment to wipe his mouth and greying beard with his napkin before setting it to the side. “I will be straightforward as well. You no doubt know that our relationship with Victor Von Doom has soured in the last few years. We try to maintain friendly ties with all the countries that border ours, but Latveria has made that more difficult with its foreign policy, and there have been rumblings that they may take a more expansionist strategy. We hope to dissuade potential violence by arranging more formal ties with our allies.”

“Not that Von Doom has been terribly respectful of international treaties or organizations. The fact that he was uninvited to this meeting hasn’t quelled rumours that he wants a piece of your country.”

Stefan picked up his wine glass and chucked. “No, the man’s appetite is well known. But still, he is not a fool. He will not engage in a territory struggle unless he is sure to win, and with each new treaty we sign it becomes less and less likely that he would succeed. And so by playing the political game we avoid a conflict and the loss of innocent Symkarian life.”

“It’s a good plan,” Erik said. “But I wonder if the slight to his pride would be enough to make him act rashly. If he did Genosia doesn’t have much in the way of material aid to assist you, but we do have the best special forces in the world. In the event that Latveria does make poor choices we can have those fighters in Symkaria in twelve hours.”

“Ah yes, your very special special forces. All of them,” the King waved his hand in a way that Erik took to mean mutant. “Hopefully it would not come to that, but if it does I will take you up on the offer. Of course officially the parliament would need to approve, but I’m sure I can manage that in the twelve hours it would be before you arrive.”

“For all that you are a young man Erik you have the politician’s mind. It will serve you well. And of course with your generous offer you have made a friend of Symkaria. And now I will tell you another piece of wisdom from an old man. This thing will go another few hours, so if you were planning for the restroom now is the time to do it.”

“I will take your wisdom to heart. If one of the servers passes I’d hope they would take the dessert with them. Otherwise the fumes might ignite.”

King Stefan laughed and waved him away, and Erik stood and made his way to the nearest exit. In truth all he needed was a few moments of quiet, and the rush of people through the dinner didn’t allow even a moment of reflection. Instead of waking to the restroom Erik found his way to a softly carpeted stairway leading up. The landing halfway had a massive window that let in light from the night outside, so he wandered towards it.

“I appreciate your position, but you must understand that decisions of this type are left to parliament. I will of course take your proposition to our finance minister, but that is all that I can promise,” Charles said from further up the flight of stairs.

“But surly a Prince of your standing would have enough influence to arrange the purchase of those armaments from my country. After all, powerful men attract powerful men, and your reputation suggests that you would have many powerful friends.”

The second voice sounded oily to Erik’s ears, like one of the judges from a country where he and his mother had not stayed long during the exile. It set his teeth on edge.

“I’m sure that I could speak well of your proposal, but I’m...”

“If we could arrange the purchase,” the man interrupted, “Then we would have more chances to work closely together. I could be a great friend to you.”

With that the banked anger that Erik was always so careful to control flared, and he took the next few steps two at a time before slowing to a more princely pace and stalking up the rest. It was only a few more steps before he could see the men on the landing, Charles looking relaxed but firm, and the second man leaning into his space, his dark lanky hair hanging in his face.

He could take a swing at the gentleman on the stairs, but instead he was going to take Symkaria’s example and try the political way first.

“Ah Charles, just the man I was hoping to see, thank you so much for sparing me a moment of your time. I’m so glad you could fit me into your schedule,” Erik said, unbuttoning the tux jacket just incase this did turn physical. He stood at his full height and turned on what Angel called prince-mode. “Did you get the documents I had sent to your room?”

“Oh yes, the documents,” said Charles, obviously trying not to laugh. “The ones you had sent to my room. We should go over those.”

Oh this was more fun than hitting someone. Not by much, but it had the added benefit of not giving his mother a headache when the newspapers found out about it.

“Actually I’m afraid that the Prince is busy right now, perhaps you can arrange a better time,” the second man said.

“And you are...” he left the question hanging, as if daring the man to justify his impudence. 

It didn’t really matter. Angel had made darn well sure that he knew the faces of every important person at the summit, and if this man didn’t rate her list then he did not rate Erik's list. Before the man could answer Erik turned his back, insulting and dismissing him at the same time.

“I’m sorry Adnam, the business I have with Prince Lehnsherr is time sensitive. If you have a written proposal you can send it to my staff and we’ll make sure it gets to the right people in our government. Now if you’ll excuse us.”

The man, Adnam apparently, let his jaw drop for a second before he wrapped himself in whatever dignity he had left and stomped down the stairs. There was a long moment of silence while they waited for him to be out of earshot.

“So do you think you’ll actually get a written proposal?”

“Oh certainly not. His proposal was barely legal in his country and it would be deeply unpopular with the general public. He would never write it down incase it would be used against him. More the fool he for thinking that I would actually agree to it.”

Erik moved to the window to see the view he had originally been looking for. “Then I suppose that it’s a good thing I put my idea on paper.”

“Yes, I appreciate your fictional proposal. Thank you for the save, I’ve never been good at telling people off. My sister got all of the attitude in our family.”

“Why didn’t you just,” Erik searched for the technical term for ‘mind whammy’. “Let’s go with influence. Why didn’t you influence him?”

“If I was caught doing it, even once, it would shatter my credibility. No country would be willing to deal with me, long term allies would question their friendship, any treaty with my signature on it could be broken by claiming that I had forced the other parties agreement. I would be have to abdicate. Best to downplay what I can do so most of them treat me like a glorified empath.” Charles paused and gave him a look that spoke of a million dry meetings with bureaucrats. “Do you know how many times someone has walked up to me thinking, ‘Don’t think about sex, don’t think about sex, don’t think about sex.’ Like the most important thing I could learn would be that they weren't as vanilla as their constituents think they are.”

The two stood at the window silently admiring the night garden until a door downstairs was opened and the sounds of the dinner floated up to them.

“I suppose I should go back,” Erik said. “Mother will scold me if she hears that I cut out of the party early.”

“Yes, I think my telepath break is over too. Once more unto the breach.”

ooOOoo

The meetings the next day were as all consuming as Angel had warned him, but things got interesting after the second round.

“Oh my child this could not be more perfect if Emma Frost had arranged it herself. She is going to be so jealous when she hears about it!” Angel squealed as soon as Erik walked into the suite. “I am the best, you are the best, everything is the best ever!”

“Are you high?” Erik asked, taking his jacket off so he could stretch his arms over his head. “Because I thought the idea with personal assistants was that they were supposed to get you drugs, not that they were supposed to use them themselves.”

Angel unwrapped her wings and fluttered to the ceiling. “This my sweet prince is the only kind of high I am. We had assumed that your little trick with the ladder had been unrecorded, but it turns out that there was a cameraman who hadn’t gotten into position yet. He had the perfect angle to get this,” she said flitting close enough that she could drop a newspaper into his hands.

Three quarters of the front page was given over to a colour photo. In it the blurry image of the ladder and one of the technician’s legs was centered in the foreground and a perfectly crisp shot of himself and Charles made up the background. His fist was extended and he had an intense look on his face. Charles had brought his fingers to his temple and wore an equally intense expression.

“Do I always look like that when I use my powers?”

“Forget what you look like, read the headline.”

“Mutant Heros,” he read. “That’s good. It looks like I’m scowling, do I always look like I’m scowling?”

“You could look like you ate babies for breakfast and I wouldn’t care. This is a major coup, for Genosha and for mutants.” 

Angel stopped flying to throw her arms around him, “You’re on the front of a major publication and it’s not for getting into a fight! And it happened on my watch!! Because I am the best.”

“That’s right, you are the best and the powers that be will certainly notice. They’re going to have you look after more publicity things and not just my briefings now that everyone can see that you’re the best. Happy?”

“Very,” Angel assured him. “Happy and so insanely smug.”

“And are you ready to go over my speaking points for the next round of meetings?”

“Right,” Angel said. “Let’s get back to business.”

ooOOoo

After the third round of meetings there was a scheduled press conference with himself and King Stefan. As expected the reporters couldn’t wait to get the mandatory questions about joining the partnership out of the way so they could ask questions about his quick catch the last night.

“Have you talked to the woman you saved?”

“Was it instinct or has something like this happened before?”

“Was it hard? How much can you pick up at one time?”

Because of Angel’s warning Erik was able to give pro-mutant answers to all of their questions, but it was clear from the looks on some of the reporters’ faces that they had hoped for something more salacious. Stefan seemed content to sit back and let the journalists monopolize Erik, but he did manage an eloquent quote about how he believed Erik’s desire to help people had been obvious from the moment they met. It was cleverly phrased to make it sound as if they were old friends, and Erik made a note to study some of his interviews to learn the skills the King was clear expert at.

Then it was time for another round of meetings, and by the end Erik was coiled as tight as any spring. The man chairing the meeting had interrupted him no less than three times, and had been a condescending git several times more. It was clear that with a table of men in their sixties the chair had believed Erik could not possibly have anything to offer.

Erik gritted his teeth and imagined the damage he could do with the spare change in the man’s pocket.

ooOOoo

“Angel I am thankful for everything you do for me, but if I stay in this room any longer I will not be responsible for my actions. Do you know how many screws are in here?”

Angel crossed her arms and set herself more firmly on the ground.

“You are doing so well Erik, but if you try to go out this evening you are going to be mobbed by paparazzi. We both know how much you love the paps. Tomorrow you’ll be on the front of something with blood on your knuckles and that will throw you for the rest of the conference. As long as you stay in the hotel security will keep the rabble outside and everyone will be happy.”

Erik spun on his heel and paced toward the window, running a hand through his hair to break up the stiffness that was appropriate during the day. It was starting to feel claustrophobic and it was only day two. Not a good sign.

“I just need to get out of the room. I’ll stay in the hotel and away from anything with a camera.”

Angel looked to be softening, which was good, because Erik intended to leave no matter what she thought and he didn’t really want to damage their working relationship.

“I suppose as long as you stay in the hotel.”

“I will,” he promised.

Then he was away, folding up his cuffs and rolling his shoulders while he walked down the hall.

It took very little time to realize that there wasn't much to do in the hotel. The snow had stopped, but it was too cold to be outside, and most of the rooms were given over to the summit. In short order Erik wandered over to the small reading room that he’s been in the day before. It wasn’t empty anymore. 

“Oh, hello my friend, what a nice surprise. I don’t suppose you play chess?”

ooOOoo

“Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do. What we’re doing this week with Genosia and Symkaria has real lasting effect. Supporting Stefan keeps the region stable and keeps the country's supply of Uranium away from anyone who would sell it to aggressive regimes, so anyone who wants to call my job obsolete can kiss my shiny white ass!”

Erik choked on his unexpected laugh. “And here you said your sister was the one with attitude.”

“I’m just so tired of every rag selling me as some wrathful manchild. It kills every chance I have at a relationship then makes another story about how I don’t date.”

“Oh I have the opposite problem,everytime I’m in the presence of a woman the press are ready to crown her. I’ve pointed out that I’m gay dozens of times, but they still do it.”

“You’re gay, how did I miss that?”

“How did you miss that? I came out when I was nineteen, and I was sure that it was reported on the front page of everything that had a front page. Even Bus and Coach Weekly did an article about what it might mean for the industry.”

Erik thought back to what he thought of as ‘the dangerous time’ and could feel a phantom throb across his side. “I think we can call the first five years after the coup tumultuous. There were times that WWIII could have started and I wouldn’t have noticed. The Magistrate secret police made two attempts on my life in the first year. I’ve never seen my mother as paranoid as she was after the second try.”

There was a long pause during which

“I’m glad they didn’t succeed,” Charles said. “It would be a shame if I hadn’t met you. May I kiss you?”

Erik’s head snapped up. There must have been a dumb look on his face, because it was Charles’ turn to laugh. It was a nice laugh, made nicer when he moved over to sit on the chaise. With one hand he took Erik’s hand and with the other he took his face.

It wasn’t a heat that settled, though there was a warmth that spread from the points where Charles touched. It was more like a relaxation that made him so light he could have floated. It felt deep but uncomplicated, simple unlike anything that he’d experienced since the exile ended. Since the weight of being responsible for millions of lives in Genosia had started to weigh heavily on his mind.

Charles pulled back between kisses, running his thumb over Erik’s cheek, then jaw, then mouth. He was flushed, but smiling openly at Erik in a way that he hadn’t seen for a long time.

“It’s a good thing you’re a natural at projection, because if I was relying on your physical cues I wouldn’t know how into this you are.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate. I should correct that.”

As much as his instructors and tutors had honed his natural love of speech into a reputation as a passionate orator some things were better left to more direct expressions. Erik pushed a decorative pillow out of the way and manhandled Charles over until he was almost sitting in his lap. The English Prince laughed again before falling all the way until he straddled Erik’s legs, and still smiling let himself be pulled down for another kiss.

“Is this a better level of participation?” Erik asked when he pulled back for air.

“Much better. If I were a teacher I’d give you a gold star.”

“Oh a teacher fantasy. Am I the misbehaving student?” Erik asked, biting at Charles’ mouth playfully.

“How about visiting faculty that I’m trying to poach from a rival school,” Charles said. He rested their foreheads together while they breathed.

“We should,” Erik started, then stopped when the mobile phone Charles had left next to the chessboard chirped obnoxiously. He moved to glare at the table, but before he could go far the man in his lap threw an arm around his neck and held him in place.

“I don’t feel like moving, would you be so kind as to fetch that for me?”

“Whoever it is can wait. You’re busy right now.”

“I wish it could work like that Erik, but almost no one has that number and the ones that do don’t use it frivolously.”

“They are your staff, they can wait as long as you please,” Erik grumbled, but floated the phone over anyways. It was worth it to keep Charles on his lap longer. An errant thought crossed his mind, wondering if he could damage the phone on the trip over without being noticed, but as much as he hated it right now he understood the kind of responsibility that made people check their phones even when they didn’t want to.

There were always expectations.

Charles thumbed it open and then projected his displeasure.

“They need me back, the Prime Minister’s office is calling with some details I need tomorrow. I’m so sorry Erik, but I have to leave you tonight.”

“I understand,” Erik said, and unlike almost anyone else in the world he did. “Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed.”

Charles slid off him and began to collect himself. Erik kept his hand on the other man’s hip for as long as he could, then frowned when Charles eventually moved away. He didn’t go far, just to one of the reading desks to grab a page of hotel stationery and scrawl something down. The stationary was carefully folded, and then Charles returned to offer what turned out to be ten digits.

“Not many people have this number. Only the important ones.”

A little bit of the lightness returned.

“Then I suppose I should use it.”

“Yes,” Charles said, as he pulled the door open and smiled warmly over his shoulder. “You should.”

 

ooOOoo

Before he fell asleep he palmed his phone and sent out one more message.

I intend to use this number frivolously

Almost immediately it buzzed with a response.

Good.

ooOOoo

At the start of the third day Erik was still partially on Genoshian time, so he woke before his phone’s alarm, or the polite hotel wake up call, or the less polite sound of Angel barging into his room. By the time the third happened Erik was dressed and sitting at his desk making notes on the day's schedule.

She stopped at the top of her inhale and blinked. “You’re awake. Not only are you awake you’re ready, and you’re doing the homework that I usually have to do for you.” The way she tilted her head and squinted when she was confused made Angel look like one of the dogs Erik wasn’t allowed to adopt when he was younger. “Did you not go to bed last night?”

“Actually, I am well rested and ready for the day. What you see is a hereditary monarch at the peak of his game.” Erik chose to take the way Angle snorted and rolled her eyes as a sign of her ongoing support, and collected his notes in the folio she would carry until the first meeting.

“You seem, I don’t know how to put this, but happy? Or at least less of the miserable, antagonistic, pro-mutant to the point of fanaticism, snarky bitch that we have all come to know and love. Are you okay?”

Erik smiled with more teeth than most people used.

“I can just tell that today’s going to be a good day. I’m going to get some favourable trade concessions, there’s going to be good food, and I’m going to make that asshole from yesterday’s meeting feel profoundly uncomfortable with how smart I am and what an idiot he is. Bonus points if I can get him to cry.”

“There he is, there’s our maneater!”

“So, let’s get on it and get down to breakfast. I’m going to charm the pants off the press.”

“No one will believe me when I tell them this,” she muttered to herself, then went back to the rest of the suite leaving the door open so he could hear, “Emma Frost eat your heart out!” 

ooOOoo

When he arrived down to breakfast Erik was still early enough that no other politicians had joined him yet. Feeling buoyed from last night he strolled to where the media were setting up, trying to appear as casual as possible considering how deliberate it was. He’d needed a way to interact with the media without being obvious about it. When he’d run this plan past Angel she had giggled and said, ‘Why didn’t I think of that.”

“Excuse me, do you have a minute?” Erik asked the first cluster he came to. Everyone this morning were photographers or cameramen, who with varying degrees of subtlety tried to start filming. “Does anyone know who took the photo on the front of the Express yesterday?”

A shorter middle aged woman with her hair tied tightly back let her monopod tilt to one side. “Why?” she asked tightly.

“Was it you? If you’re freelance I’d like to buy a print of it, a couple prints actually.”

Photographers, just like any other self employed artists, saw the value of secondary income sources, so the woman who had taken the picture warmed immediately. Within a few minutes he had worked out a deal and made himself approachable enough that everyone who wasn’t taking more footage had fished phones out to record the questions he was so graciously answering. Usually talking with the press frustrated him, and made him question how whatever he said would be used against him, but today was going to be a good day and Erik was determined to get as much out of it as he could.

Then one of the cameramen, obviously inexperienced in this type of reporting, asked an inappropriately personal question. Erik couldn’t stop the frown coming back to his face, and he opened his mouth to tear a stip out of the man.

“Albert, not cool,” snapped Dot, the woman responsible for the ladder picture.

“What, it’s a legit question. Everybody knows that he doesn’t date, ‘nd people want to know why. Is it some freakish mutant thing? Can you not get it up?” he almost sneered.

Once again heat rushed into his face and fists, and once again Dot acted before he could.

“Albert, you useless sack of shit, that kind of stupid statement is why they don’t give you any of the good assignments.” She passed her monopod over to one of the others and marched up into his face. “That kind of ignorance is an embarrassment to yourself and it makes the rest of us think that you’re nothing but a mindless cow.”

If you’re looking for a good time to escape this is it. Your friend is well suited to insulting people, so this is going to go on for a while.

The familiar feeling of Charles speaking in his mind was a balm, and surprisingly made some of the anger ease away. Erik looked around, spotted the other man, and left the cluster that were now focused on the spectacle Dot was making.

When he was almost to where Charles was waiting he thought back to the lessons Emma had taught him in projecting words and tried to put into play what he had learned.

Don’t think about sex, don’t think about sex, don’t think about sex.

Charles almost barked his laugh, then caught and stifled it in a way that all children raised in the public eye had been taught. You are horrible, and I’m sorry that I ever thought you were cute.

“Well that was both better and worse than I expected,” he said, relaxing even more when he got to the other prince’s side. “Not the morning that I was hoping for, but Dot was a pleasant surprise.” Erik reached for Charles’ hand.

Or rather he tried to.

The arm simply hung limp at his side.

There was a moment of panic before Charles’ warm voice brushed against his mind. Don’t worry, it’s just me. I didn’t want anyone to see, I’ll let it go now. Erik’s arm tensed when he regained control of it, and he jerked it up to his chest. He clenched a fist without thinking, but when everything worked as it should his heartbeat began to slow to it’s usual speed.

Charles looked apologetic, but he kept his hands in his pockets while Erik’s mind raced. Clearly he had misinterpreted last night, if Charles had been so quick to take his hand last night but didn’t want anyone to see them touching in public now.

Oh no my friend, it’s not that. I would be proud to be seen with you, but now is not the time. The suggestion of impropriety would colour people's impression of Genosha joining the partnership. All that the papers would be talking about would be our flirtation and not the good work we’re doing. Just give it some time.

Erik made himself take a moment before he responded, something that was against his nature but had been drilled into him through hard example.

Alright Charles, I can wait. But unless someone’s life is in danger you will never control my body again.

“Of course,” he said, the contrition clear in his every movement. “I’m so sorry. It will never happen again.”

“It looks like they’re ready to start, we should go sit down.

Charles couldn’t look him in the eye when they parted. The bit of Erik that wasn’t angry anymore kicked himself for ruining what could have been a good thing. The first thing with potential that he’d had in years, lost before it could really begin.

Breakfast was accompanied by live musicians playing subdued holiday music, and the tension in his jaw started to spike into his eye. 

King Stefan put down his cutlery before reaching over to take the fork out of Erik’s hand. “My friend I do not think you should be armed right now. Whatever it is that is troubling your mind you should deal with it now, before you do something you will regret. Is there something I can do?”

He shook his head and let go of the last of his anger before leaning back in his chair. “It will just take a moment.”

Charles, are you listening?

When Charles’ mind touched his there was something like a taste in the contact. It felt hopeful.

Yes, I’m here.

Erik felt the same hope.

You should try the lox and cream cheese bagel. It’s quite good.

Yes, I’ll try.

You didn’t have to be a telepath to know he wasn’t talking about the food.

ooOOoo

Erik’s charity event that evening was a tour of a local mutant children's centre, and his work in the last few days had led to it being more successful that he’d hoped. Instead of the handful of reporters that Angel had arranged there were a dozen, and a national network had brought in one of their bigger personalities last minute to shadow him. It was almost enough to keep him from resenting the thick layer of makeup that the cameras necessitated.

When it was over he gave in to the long day’s exhaustion and collapsed in the back of the town car with his eyes closed.

“Angel, I’m done. I’m actually too tired to itch my nose.”

There was a moment, then a single finger poked his nose.

“Does this help?”

Erik grinned, then batted her hand away, all without opening his eyes.

They drove in silence for a while, but just before he fell asleep

“You did good today Erik.”

ooOOoo

The term boyfriend was silly and juvenile, and as a Prince it was beneath him to use it, so of course when he slipped up and thought it during the first meeting of on Saturday he inwardly cringed. Since Charles was already sharing the thought he got the flash of embarrassment along with it.

I’m sorry did you just think that having a telepathic boyfriend was useful during meetings? Because you are correct, and oh so wrong at the same time. 

Erik was treated to a few seconds of an explicit fantasy involving ropes and metal. His knee jerked and hit the table, attracting the attention of two finance ministers and an important bureaucrat, and Charles smirked while he tried to pass the flinch off as a leg spasm.

I don’t think that people know how terrible you are. They are fooled by your charm.

If they ever make a sitcom about us they can call it Charm and Smarm. Speaking of your enormous smarm.

Erik hadn’t known it was possible to telepathically emote an eyebrow waggle.

That is actually terrible. I’m embarrassed for you.

Back to your enormous smarm. There’s a forty five minute break between this meeting and the official lunch. Want to sneak off to the library and make out like teenagers?

If you ditch your minders I’ll ditch mine. Now, and I can’t believe I’m the one thinking this, stop distracting me. I’ve got work to do.

ooOOoo

By some strange coincidence they ended up in the library in the same position that they’d been in Thursday evening.

“As much as I enjoy this next time you’re going to sit in my lap,” Charles breathed in his ear, then went back to dragging his teeth across Erik’s jaw.

“And as much as I am enjoying this, we’re approaching the point where we need to stop or we’ll be too rumpled to go back to the summit.”

“Then I suppose we’ll just have to play hookey.”

Erik took his face in both hands. “Why do you have such wonderful ideas on the days that we have to sign important treaties?” 

I feel like you know me, and at the same time it’s like you have no expectations for me. I don’t think anyone but a telepath would know how rare that is.

There was no good reason not to kiss Charles again, so he did.

And only stopped when something disconcerting rubbed up against his magnetic senses.

Charles, I don’t want to alarm you, but a large number of guns just entered the hotel.

Charles sat back and looked towards the door, then raised two fingers to his temple in the same way that he had in the first day’s photo. He turned back to Erik and shook his head.

I don’t feel anyone with malicious intent. Could it just be security?

It was Erik’s turn to shake his head.

All the bodyguards are carrying pistols. These ones are much larger.

Charles stood and went back to trying to find what Erik was sensing.

I don’t feel any anger, or fear, or an unusual level of nervousness. No, wait a moment, the bell hop sees...”

He was interrupted by the loud popping of gunfire. Erik was thankful to note that it was being directed up, and not into any of the people that he could now hear shrieking, before there was an indescribable sensation against his already extended senses.

Then all there was was black.

ooOOoo

When he woke up Erik was looking at a mop.

Oh, I’m so glad that you aren’t brain dead.

Why was the mop talking to him?

Alright, I understand that you’re a little bit discombobulated, which is why I’m not going to be offended that you just mistook me for a mop.

A gentle hand took his chin and turned his head until he was looking a Charles. Beautiful, beautiful Charles.

That’s nice dear, but I need you with me now, so don’t talk just listen. I think you were hit by an EMP. I assume this because my phone stopped working at the same time that you decided to take a nap. I needed to move us because some large men with guns were sweeping all the rooms, and just to make my life more difficult they’re wearing telepathy blockers.

Oh shit. That wasn’t good. If they had telepathy blockers they must have been prepared for Charles.

That’s what I thought too. But if you can sense their guns that means that they weren’t prepared for you to take your mother’s place in signing the accord.

Erik shook off the last of the brain fog, then pushed himself into a sitting position.

So that’s what an EMP does. I don’t want to do that again. Where did you move us and do you know who they’re after?

Charles gave the mental equivalent of a sigh, and then cracked the door open so that Erik could see for himself.

I think he’s angry with us all.

Outside was the unmistakable armor of Dr Victor Von Doom.

ooOOoo

 

We’re hiding in a broom closet to avoid an evil scientist but you don’t seem very concerned.

Oh, I’m scared senseless, but I can’t deal with that right now. We have to figure out how to stop him and then I can have my moment in private.

How much figuring is there to do? They didn’t have the sense to bring plastic guns so I’m going to make them fall apart in their hands and they use the pieces to restrain Doom.

No, that’s too easy. Doom will have a backup plan, but if we wait just one moment he’s sure to start monologuing.

Sure enough just when the overpowering scent of bleach started to distract him Doom pulled Erik’s attention back by raising his hands in the air and magnifying a speech through his armor.

Yup, there he goes.

“You fools, how dare you insult the great Victor Von Doom and his noble country of Latveria?!”

Will he actually tell us his whole evil plan? No wonder nobody takes this guy seriously.

Oh yes, Victor is a traditionalist. He will tell us every detail just so that we can marvel at his cleverness.

Outside the broom closet Doom droned on, while his unwilling audience varied between fear and a genuine anger. One of the few people that Erik could see clearly was King Stefan. He had been dragged to the front to stand in the place of honor next to Doom, who didn’t seem to notice the waves of fury pulsing from the king. If it was possible for a non mutant to kill someone with their brain Doom would already be dead.

“And if your security forces are foolish enough to try to rescue you without giving into my demands I will destroy you all with the bombs I have hidden in the hotel. You will all know the power of Doom!!”

There we go, there’s the back up plan. Have you ever disabled a bomb?

More than you’d think. The problem is finding them. There’s lots of metal in a place like this and sorting through what is normal and what isn’t would take hours.

They sat in silence while outside Doom went over his impossible list of demands.

Then Charles straightened and smiled.

The EMP means that the bombs must be shielded, so they won’t be able to start the timers remotely. Doom will need to send one of his minions to trigger them manually. I’ll be able to follow their minds and direct you to where the bombs are.

Are you sure it will be on a timer?

It’s Doom, of course it will be on a timer. There will also be a red wire and a green wire, because he is that committed to the classics. I don’t know why we let him join the partnership in the first place.

Will you be able to follow the mook considering that they’re wearing telepathy collars? You couldn't sense them when they first came in.

I couldn’t sense them then because I didn’t know what I was looking for. Now that I’ve spent more time I can feel their minds, even if I can’t touch them. We can do this!

Not knowing how difficult tracking terrorists in anti telepathy collars would be Charles lay down before putting his fingers to his temple.

“Be careful,” Erik whispered, needing to hear the words out loud.

ooOOoo

It was startlingly easy to dismantle the bombs. Erik marveled at the ineptitude involved in creating bombs that would fall apart at the slightest touch.

It’s almost like he doesn’t want them to work.

Well I for one am not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, are you?

Erik shook his head and got to his feet.

Not even a little bit. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go show Doom that he’s not the only one who likes a good monologue.

With a surge of his power Erik wrapped the comforting magnetic fields around him and decided to try something a little bit more theatrical. When the broom closet door flew off it’s hinges he was already hovering three feet off the ground.

“Doom! You were foolish enough to challenge the Master of Magnetism and you will come to regret that mistake!!”

ooOOoo

Even including the time that Erik was unconscious the hostage standoff lasted less than an hour. Because of the EMP no one outside had even noticed a problem until twenty minutes in, so while authorities had scrambled through the snow to put a cordon around the hotel they still hadn’t decided what to do when fifteen terrorists and the megalomaniac leader of a small European country floated out wrapped in their own guns.

To be fair, most people would have been a little off put by that one.

The police immediately moved to take statements and sweep the property for other attackers. Erik couldn’t see Charles in the waves of people being escorted out of the hotel, but it would have been hard to miss Angel who was weaving through the crowd and swearing.

There was not even a pause when she reached Erik and threw her arms around his neck.

“It’s okay to be heroic, that looks good in the papers, but if you die on my watch Emma Frost will make my life a living hell. Consider that the next time you’re rescuing a conference of world leaders.”

Erik smiled down at her. “I’m appropriately chastised. I take it you were close enough to hear the whole thing?”

“I was a little bit closer than that. I could see everything as well. Everything,” Angel smirked. “So, I understand that you were hiding in a closet with the English Prince.”

“As my aid and quasi publicist, you should know that I’m involved with Prince Charles.”

Angel smirked harder.

“Did you know that Dianne your makeup lady is a low level telepath? I already knew. Your mother said to tell you that you have good taste.”

ooOOoo

To Erik’s surprise they were allowed back into the hotel in only a few hours.

“This cannot possible be okay. Shouldn’t the police have this cordoned off for weeks?” he said as he and Angel made their way back inside. In the hours that they were out of the hotel she had somehow found a tux that fit him perfectly, and now they joined a steady stream of ‘important people’ flowing back into the ballroom. There was no sign of the earlier fight, and if there were bullet holes in the ceiling Erik couldn’t see them,

“When you are hosting all of the world’s most important politicians the rules no longer apply,” Angel assured him. “And being scared out of tonight’s ball and the signing of the accord is bad optics. Now you stand here and when the nice man announces your name you can go join the party. I’m going back to the room to find my floofy dress.”

Angel flew off, and as she left she passed an approaching Prince Charles. She stopped to say something, then continued on her way.

“I’m glad to see you,” Erik said. “I hoped we might be able to talk some at dinner. Maybe about extending your trip here for a few days after the summit.”

“Yes, that would suite me quite well.” Charles seemed calmer now, more settled. “And perhaps we can be announced and enter at the same time.”

Charles took his arm in a way that would not read as simple friendship. And ambassador and his wife noticed, but didn’t seem to mind.

“I thought we weren’t doing this.”

“We weren’t doing this when the story would overshadow the summit. Please believe me when I say that nothing is going to overshadow this summit.”

“Oh, I’m sure we could do something scandalous enough to knock the attack off the front page.”

“Speaking of the attack, Dr Doom is already denying a connection to today's events. He says that the bot’s programming was corrupted and it was acting independently.”

“He expects us to believe that?!”

“No, he expects to use it as a handy excuse to absolve him from the act. Without proof we cannot prosecute him for it, but there isn’t a politician or bureaucrat alive who believes that tripe. If he puts so much as a finger out of line our allies will be all over him, which means that any plans to take aggressive action in Symkaria will have to be shelved. He’s on a very short leash now. And so not only did you show an example to your people of what they could be, you showed the world what to expect from your country, and saved Symkaria’s sovereignty. Not bad for a few days worth of work, I should think.”

“I only just realized something. I hate politics.”

“Oh Darling, I hope you like dancing more.”

Dancing Erik could do.


End file.
